


The Symptoms of Dying

by orphan_account



Series: Frerard Oneshots [9]
Category: My Chemical Romance, Thursday (US Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-21
Updated: 2020-01-21
Packaged: 2021-02-25 02:15:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22348426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: A party turns violent with the help of cocaine and laced pills, leaving Gerard traumatized. But Frank is there for him.
Relationships: Frank Iero/Gerard Way, Geoff Rickly/Gerard Way
Series: Frerard Oneshots [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1516007
Comments: 1
Kudos: 13





	The Symptoms of Dying

**Author's Note:**

> TW: gore, heavy violence, character death, drug use, rape. THIS IS SO FUCKED UP I MEAN LIKE R E A L L Y FUCKED UP. It's not even really frerard, its just... gore
> 
> also i dont know much about drugs or murder, so this is all my own made up shit. this is fiction. obviously.

_"Drain all the blood and give the kids a show"- The Sharpest Lives_

Fairy lights sparkled and snow fell gently. The snow would refract the warm glow in a dazzling display as couples walked without fault. The air was crisp and smelled like winter and far-off cafes and the sounds of merriment were present constantly.

Beautiful girls giggled while their stunning boyfriends hung on to them with ear-to-ear grins. Old wizened married folks grinned happily at each other and singles walked about with no purpose, soft smiles alluding to their own joy. Groups of friends caused a ruckus, shouting and playing.

It was a fairytale.

It wasn't real, so I woke up.

My nose wrinkled as I accidentally inhaled through it, and I cringed at the odours assaulting my nostrils. It was horrid, the stench of unwashed bodies and vomit permeated my senses as I tried not to gag. My eyes cracked open gingerly, my entire body aching. The room was dark except for the blinding lights pouring through the cracks of the rotting wooden shutters and I tried to adjust my sight to see the bodies around me.

Many were dead, stab wounds pockmarked over their ruined skin. I didn't remember what had happened, but I knew there was no help to come. People were piled on top of one another, some still doing lines of coke absentmindedly as if they were just robots. Drug-crazed automatons fixated on the "special" cocaine that had arrived early last night.

I knew it was stronger than usual, my friends' loud manic laughter invading my senses as I had tried to relax. I'd only come against my better judgement, unable to leave after they'd lost their car keys in a bout of crazed partying. I didn't take the drugs, but I saw the horror unfold.

Flashbacks assaulted me suddenly and I whimpered in agony. I only remembered the screaming and laughing. Friendly fighting turned to homicidal rage with the help of the enhanced coke and soon bodies were piling up. A knife flashed in my vision and came down on people, slicing their skin apart. 

I remember watching the intestines being pulled out of a girl who was still alive, writhing in pain and screaming for her life, her friends high off of the drugs and laughing at her, a chorus of malice and fear. The person would start to jump rope with them, a sadistic round of childhood games played with the organs of a dying girl. Laughter turned psychotic as people only took more and more coke and some other drug I had no idea of.

_"Do a line with us, Gee!"_

Geoff's voice rang through my head and I whipped around to meet the glassed over eyes of my best friend. The body was lying a few inches from my hand and I recoiled, scrambling away. He was dead as well, his hair matted with dark blood, face mangled with slashes. I choked on nothing, bile rising to the back of my throat as I stared at his corpse. His skin was carved like some grotesque painting, odd pictures lacerated into the flesh, smiley faces created in agony. A portion of skin was torn off of his neck, the bones and arteries exposed for the maggots and flies to devour.

Why? That's all I could think as I sat surrounded by a dozen dead and brain-dead people. No one but me seemed to have noticed the horror so I sat in the corner quietly sobbing, unable to leave or tear my eyes from Geoff's torn face.

"Fuck, fuck fuck!" I muttered endlessly, squeezing my eyes shut against the images, my voice cracked and broken. Then there was a noise. Different from the odd giggles of the drugged and the sound of cocaine. It was a knock. My head whipped around to look at the decrepit door, my eyes shooting open.

I couldn't make myself get up. I could only call out in a weak tone.

"Help," The sound of my voice was only just loud enough, as I watched it creak open.

It was a man, practically a boy. Light poured in behind him, suiting his image of heaven that came with the scenario. He wore nothing but a hoodie and ripped jeans, his tattoos clearly displayed. I knew this boy. From his beat-up Vans to the top of his shaggy brown hair, I knew this man. Who was he? For a moment, my mind was blank, his image never having a name. And then it clicked.

"Frankie?" I sounded wrecked and it fit. I was wrecked. His eyes were wide and a heavily inked hand shot up and covered his mouth. There was a beat of silence in which he only stood in the doorway, drinking in the bloody scene in front of him.

"Oh my god," He whispered, his eyes landing on me finally.

"Geoff, h-he..." I coughed, my eyes watering again as Frank ran to me. I couldn't think, everything was rushing back to me and I tried to stand and get away but I couldn't physically stand. I felt hands grasping mine and I tore my eyes away from Geoff once again to look at Frank. 

"I-I know, Gee," He hushed me, hauling me to my feet. For such a little guy, he was strong.

"How'd you get here?" I hiccuped, doing my best to walk with him.

"Geoff told me last night where you guys were headed, just in case of..." Frank trailed off, a glazed over look invading his hazel eyes. Suddenly I tripped over something and fell over a body, my face pressed close to theirs.

Pieces of blood and flesh were smeared over their mouth and I was thrown back into the scene.

_I couldn't look away, it had returned in a cacophony of suffering. Geoff was laughing maniacally along with another person, watching as another guy forcefully shoved his dick into a girl, not put-off by her struggling to free herself, unable to scream. He had his hand wrapped around her throat in a killer grip, his nails digging in so hard that blood was streaming from the cuts he'd inflicted. In one swift motion, he tore his hand from her neck, ripping out the artery. She screamed one last time before slumping over, inevitably dead. I hid closer to my corner, trembling with terror. I watched as the man pulled out, taking the jagged lump of flesh and shoved it in his mouth, the other cheering drunkenly. The bloody lump spilled from his lips and he chewed excitedly, laughing as he did so._

I cried out, throwing myself backwards and against Geoff's body, screaming as I tried to rid myself of my memories.

"Oh god, oh fucking god I can't!" I cried, stumbling out of the crumbling house and collapsing to my knees on the soft grass, sobbing. Frank had run after me, wrapping his thin arms around my shoulders and whispering softly to me.

"Gee, we have to get you to the hospital, okay?" He murmured, surprisingly calm. 

~~ 

I can't remember getting to the hospital. All I remember are the visions that assaulted me as we drove there. It was torture, all I could do was sob into my shirt, relentless agony tearing through my body. Eventually, it stopped as I retreated back into my mind.

I couldn't do anything to stop the terror and I could feel myself becoming more and more vulnerable. I'd been reduced to sniffles and occasional whimpers as I was directed to a gurney. I felt my mind wander to a sunny place. The only place it didn't hurt. I opened my eyes and suddenly there was a needle in my arm and an officer standing by my bed. Where was Frankie?

"You're Gerard Way, correct?" She asked urgently. I nodded and she wrote something on her clipboard. "You witnessed the deaths of Geoff Rickly, Samantha Winters, and countless others?" At the mention of Geoff, I sniffled and frowned. I didn't like her tone.

"You're mean," I grumbled in a small voice. I was thirsty and didn't want to talk to a mean police officer.

I had retreated so far into my mind that I didn't feel the grief anymore. All I felt was mild annoyance and lightness. It was the only way I could stop myself from going insane. The officer frowned as well.

"Mr. Way, are you present enough to give us information?" She pressed, but Frank had walked in and my attention was diverted to my boyfriend.

"Frankie!" I squealed happily, making grabby hands at him. Confusion crossed his grief-stricken face, but he still walked forward and took my hands gently.

"What happened, Gee?" He asked gently. I didn't really know, honestly. All I knew was that I wasn't hurting as badly.

~~ Frank's POV

The doctors said it was from the trauma. It was understandable, Gerard watched so many people die in the most gruesome ways possible. I made sure to not look, so I could be strong for him. 

Gerard was almost completely inaccessible. What I mean is, he had retreated from all the bad things and left only a childlike demeanour behind in what was once an intelligent, wise art school graduate. He wasn't the same. There were times that he would return to me, becoming his old hopeless romantic self for a few precious hours.

Then he would leave again. And become a child, essentially. He became a pure, innocent child that I had to protect. He barred himself from the memories by making himself vulnerable.

And as his partner, I became his caregiver. 

"Gee, time to sleep!" I called out, closing the lid of my laptop. It had been about a year since the tragedy and we were happily (almost) settled into our apartment.

"No!" He yelled, obviously still in what the psychiatrist referred to as 'little space'. And he was being stubborn tonight. I sighed, allowing myself a small smile. It always made me sad to know that this experience all but took Gerard's personality away from him. I missed the man I fell in love with three years ago, though I still love him with all my heart. I stood up and made my way to the living room, where the man was furiously sketching what looked like us walking through the woods.

He was still a phenomenal artist, that hadn't been taken from him at least. He even paid for most of our rent with his commissions. 

"Gee, time for bed," I said firmly, pulling a scowl as best as I could as he glared up at me from the floor. 

"Frankie!" He drew out the "e" sound for a few seconds, whining.

"C'mon baby, you can draw tomorrow," I said gently, taking his hands. This always seemed to calm him before he started to throw a tantrum and it was evident in the way his tense muscled relaxed almost immediately. I drew him to his feet and we walked to the bedroom hand in hand.

"Frankie," He repeated as we entered the room, his tone soft and quiet. I looked up at him to see a small frown on his face, different from the usual toothy grin I loved seeing. 

"What is it?" I asked, sitting next to him on our bed. He seemed to be a little more coherent, guilt crossing his features.

"I'm sorry you have to deal with me," He replied quietly, leaning his head on my shoulder.

"It's not your fault, Gee," I insisted. "It's your way of coping and I understand. I'll always be here for you."

"I wish I could just deal with all the stuff in my head, but it's easier just to pretend, I guess," He said, sniffing a little.

"You just keep yourself, happy baby, that's all that matters," I replied earnestly, kissing his hair lightly.

"How long has it been since that day?" He asked suddenly, looking up at me. I sighed sadly.

"Three hundred and twenty-seven days since then," I recited. I'd been keeping track ever since Gerard asked me to a few weeks after. He let out a tiny breath.

"I miss Geoff," He cried quietly, a choked sob making itself known. 

"Shh, I miss him too, Gee," I tried to soothe him, but it was no use. Gerard flung himself away and burrowed under the covers fully clothed, heavy sobs shaking his form. It tore me apart to watch him suffer, to know that I couldn't take away his pain. In all honesty, I missed Geoff too. He was a wild card for sure, but also one of the kindest people I knew. It was horrible to see him like that. And I knew it was worse for Gerard to have lived it.

I laid down beside him, feeling him curl into me and wrap an arm around my waist, still crying. He held me close like a child would a stuffed animal and eventually, his breathing evened and he fell asleep holding me. I felt my own chest tighten with grief as I tried to sleep as well. I hoped and prayed to God that we would be alright. But I wasn't so sure, as the tightness only got worse.

It felt less like grief, and more like a symptom of dying.


End file.
